Tag, You're Dead
by Roses of Sharon
Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. Full Summary Inside. Currently Editing.
1. Ready

Edited: February 11, 2008

Author's Note: In which I decide that it is time that I write a full-length story. This is a prologue of sorts. Each chapter will coincide with one of the words in the phrase, "Ready or Not, Here I Come," thus, six chapters. Each will be in a different 3rd person POV, beginning with Ino, then Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten – thus including all of the teams, though I am favoring Team 7, more because I'm used to writing them than anything else.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. [A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter One: Ready

She looks out over the walls, her fists clenching and unclenching in her pale blue gloves. They're coming. The bastards who killed Asuma-sensei, who broke her team, who made Shikamaru grow up faster than he should have, who destroyed the man who had been almost a father to her… They're coming.

She tenses before she fully comprehends the being beside her and slowly turns her head, blonde hair waving, almost as if she cannot bear to look away from the sight before her. Sakura stands there, her ANBU mask dangling around her neck, her ANBU armor on and clashing with her pink hair, her emerald gaze bright and hard. It is like looking at a vengeful goddess, and Ino realizes that she is not the only one with a personal stake in this.

Beside Sakura stands Hinata, the Hyuuga Heiress. She stands tall and proud, the Byakugan activated, and her hand rests on the hilt of the katana she wears, but has never used. One look at the usually gentle face and Ino knows that she plans on baptizing it in blood today. Her features are hard as stone, as cold as ice, and as her long, dark hair blows back from her face, Ino sees that, for the first time, she is looking forward to the kill. She congratulates her silently, even as the girl's lithe muscles clench and relax in a manner that reminds her of a tigress, ready to hunt. The heiress turns her gaze on the Yamanaka, and she shivers at the endless winter it holds.

Her gaze shifts to Tenten, who is stiller than Ino has ever seen her before, a far cry from her usual blur of dancing motion. She does not show bloodlust, eagerness, or vengefulness, only a penetrating hatred that can be felt despite the studied blankness of her face. She wears the same armor as Sakura, with a different mask hanging from her neck. Ino envies that coldness, that detached hatred. She wishes that she could be as cold, as calculating. But she is a creature of fire and passion, and does not know that horrible emptiness that Tenten has felt. Tenten would say she was lucky.

Once again, she looks out toward the coming enemy. She can't see them yet, but Konohagakure's spies - her subordinates - have all reported it, so it must be true. Gloved hands grip the wall in a useless try for calm. She can't quite achieve the coldness the other girls do so well, but she manages to school her face to a carefully composed blankness.

There are other presences beside her now: Inuzuka Kiba and Akamaru, snarling; Uzumaki Naruto, standing behind Hinata, but with one hand on Sakura's shoulder. Beside her stands Shikamaru, and to her other side stands Chouji. Uchiha Sasuke walks down the narrow path, passing her without a second glance, and stops behind the pink-haired medic. He stands behind her, a little to the side, and she reaches behind her for his hand. Aburame Shino and Hyuuga Neji are there now, too, standing beside each other between Tenten and Hinata. Rock Lee's here, in a flash of green, standing to the other side of her.

And then comes the part that's gut-wrenchingly hard for her, and she absently wonders if Konoha has decided not to function for an hour that evening. Hatake Kakashi appears, his Sharingan eye uncovered, lazy as ever, but dangerous. Maito Gai pops silently into existence next to Lee, placing a hand on his protégé's shoulder. Ino looks away just as the red-eyed, beautiful Kurenai appears. She's reminded of the achingly empty spot where Asuma-sensei ought to be, and clenches her hands into fists once more. Asuma-sensei should be here, she thinks, as her eyes wander back in time to see the other jounin, chuunin, and even genin crowding along the walls.

She glances at the place where Kakashi stands, hand on Sakura's hair. Asuma-sensei should be here, she growls mentally, not wanting to ruin the almost eerie silence, but Shikamaru and Chouji know exactly what she's thinking, and they each make themselves known to her – a hand on her shoulder, a brush against her leg.

She'll avenge her teacher.

She glances back toward her friends, to where Sakura grips Sasuke's hand in a white-knuckled grip, and where Hinata's hand is gripping the katana just as hard, and where Naruto is soothingly rubbing her shoulders even as his own whisker markings darken. She hears Kiba growling, sees Neji with his famed Byakugan activated.

No.

She won't be the only one avenging someone.

They've all got people to avenge.

She tosses her head back and lets out a call like a wild lynx. It's a challenge, and the shinobi acknowledge it even as miles away, the sound carried by wasted chakra she uses almost subconsciously, their enemies shudder.

"We're ready," it says, "We were born ready."

She closes her eyes, her own fingernails digging through her gloves. We're ready. _I'm _ready.


	2. Or

Edited: February 11, 2008

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. [A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter Two: Or

He rubs his arms, chilled by the feral call Ino had just emitted. He's never suspected the seemingly shallow kunoichi capable of such emotion. Of course, he realizes, she probably saw these invaders as the men who had killed her Asuma-sensei. He decides, in an uncharacteristic burst of seriousness, that it was probably good. She was trained well enough that she wouldn't go into a blind haze, and adrenaline and hatred would keep her fighting much longer than simple politics.

He has his own problems to worry about. He stares straight out, the very edges of his vision grasping on the girls he stands between, blurs of dark blue and light pink, each drawn into focus as he glances at them. Hinata or Sakura? His love or his best friend? He knows that Sakura would kill him for even having these thoughts. "You idiot," she would scream, "go protect Hinata-chan!" She would hit him, laugh at him, and then pull Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke-temee into it, "I've got Kaka-sensei and Sasuke-kun to protect me! Anyways," she would add, "I'm not that weak little girl anymore. I can protect myself."

It is true that she can protect herself better, perhaps, than Hinata. But she is reckless. (He realizes the irony in this statement, coming from him). She charges into battle with no more thought than to destroy the enemy. She is too intelligent, too strong, and too fast. She fights, and thinks of battle strategies, pieces puzzles together, and then defeats her opponents, and she doesn't care about herself.

There. He said it. She doesn't care about herself. She cares about others. If she saw Kakashi-sensei fall, or Ino, or Kiba, or Chouji, or, god forbid, the bastard, or anyone on their side… If she saw them fall, she would be thinking of them, and she would be running to them, and healing left her wide open for any attack that might come her way.

And Hinata has Kiba, Shino, Kurenai-sensei… But Sakura has more actual combat experience, after being on Team Kakashi and being Tsunade-baa-chan's apprentice for so long…

Still.

The odds all point to Hinata needing him more, but they should be fighting as a team.

So it isn't just Hinata or Sakura.

It is the choice between the eighth team or his own.

He probably shouldn't be thinking about this – where he fights and who he fights with may not even be under his control. But it very well may be. "The Sound is coming." The message, carried along the chain of Konoha's spies, was quick, brusque, to the point – "The Sound is coming."

There had been no 'or,' no 'what if,' no 'maybe,' or 'maybe not.'

And days after those reports came others, pouring in until intelligence was completely swamped, and the Hokage's office piled high with reports. This, he knows, has the potential to be a Ninja War.

Then came reports from Sunagakure, "We're coming," the message had read, in more eloquent terms, "We're coming, and Kumogakure has allied itself with Oto." To say that Tsunade was stressed would have been the understatement of the century, Kakashi-sensei had said when Naruto thought about going to see her. Sasuke had responded with something about how Kakashi should know. But Gaara was coming, and with him Kankurou and Temari, so it would be okay, right?

Or it wouldn't.

Naruto turns and walks toward the stairs, Sakura and Sasuke following close behind him. They are a team, and he leads, though it doesn't seem like it. Kakashi-sensei is gone, lost in a puff of smoke. Hinata comes, too, with her team, and then Team Gai, and then the others, one by one. Ino is the last to leave, blood staining those blue gloves she has taken to wearing.

Looking behind him, Naruto doesn't see the faces of the people he has known for so long. Instead, he sees masks. Not all of them are the porcelain masks of ANBU, but the stone-cold, expressionless faces of the passionate people he knew. They have been building up to this battle, to this war, for quite a while now, and those that he knows who are not clad in the dark armor of ANBU wear the vests of the jounin rank over their usual outfits. They are bright, some of them, purples and pinks and blues of the younger ones, and then there are the darker, more practical colors of those who know how difficult it is to wash blood from cloth: grays, blacks, blues, and greens.

They are the Konoha shinobi.

He glares at the gate where Gaara would enter, while the other shinobi melt into the shadows, all but one. Naruto smiles down at the blue-haired girl whose hand lay on his shoulder. He will fight beside Hinata tomorrow, if he can. He is shinobi and the mission comes first, always, but he will do anything he can to stand next to her on the battleground tomorrow, and he knows that Tsunade-baa-chan will not deny him this.

Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, they will be the ones to stand victorious on the field.

For tomorrow, for always, for as long as it takes, they will fight.

No more 'or,' no more 'what if,' no more indecision.

Just today, just now, just this moment, just this battle.

The old children's game – the game he never played because he had no one to play it with – runs through his mind, "Ready or not, here we come!"

They are ready.


	3. Not

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. [A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter Three: Not

In Hyuuga, Hinata is a failure. She is the Main House Heir, the one who should be the strongest, the most fit to lead. Instead, she was found to be unskilled in combat, shy, and quiet. Her skills in diplomacy were overshadowed by her unwilling to speak. She was _not _what people had expected of the first child of Hyuuga Hiashi, and she, in their eyes, never improved enough to matter.

It didn't matter, to them, that although she wasn't born a genius, she trained with her team every day. It didn't matter, to them, that she _tried_. It didn't matter, to them, that she eventually got everything she as taught, that she wasn't stupid or slow, just intelligent and not a genius. It didn't matter, not to them.

And then she met Naruto, who _just didn't care_. He was free, she thought, and she envied him and watched him and discovered that she _liked _him, which was a strange feeling for her. But she tried it out anyways, and found that it was sweetness and joy bordering on pain to love him. She wanted to be close to him, but was afraid of him at the same time. She wanted to see him, but didn't know what to say. It was frightening and glorious and terrible and beautiful all at the same time, and it made her deliriously happy.

He's standing next to her now, and they're outside, in the cool air. She doesn't have the katana at her hip our, but her Byakugan is activated. Naruto, standing beside her, is gripping the katana on his back, his whisker markings dark. She takes his free hand in hers, and even as he grips her hand reassuringly, eh turns to her and smiles that big, white smile, his blue eyes crinkling, "Hey, Hinata-chan, wanna go get ramen after this?"

And she smiles, a tremulous smile at first, but quickly gaining strength. It is hard to be strong here, harder than on the wall, but she has years of hidden strength in her, years of endurance, from watching as her father loved her sister and not herself. And she has her love, standing beside her.

She loves him, and she opens her mouth to say what she has never dared utter before, and he lays his palm down over her mouth. "Not now," he says, "later. I have something to tell you, too. And I have a present for you. But alter." He's serious, she can see it, so when he removes his hand she just nods.

But, still, she fears, "What if… what if…"

He lays his hand over her mouth to stop her, and looks deep into her eyes. "You can 'what if' yourself to death, Hinata-chan. We'll make it through today. Today, and the day after, and the day after that, and every day, for as long as it takes." She looks up at him, and she truly wants to believe him, she does. But she is so used to doubt and failure and disappointment that she does not, cannot believe him.

Still, she nods, and he smiles, becoming that same little boy that she fell in love with so long ago, and not the teenager forced to be a man far too early. "Believe it," he adds, excitedly, and she knows he's looking forward to this battle. And then the alarm calls, the bells tolling and she sees, in the inverted black and white of Byakugan, the approaching army. They're fast, but she's thinking of chess, now. The pawns attack first. And its true and she knows it, because around her there are still children, children who, by the end of this day, will have seen and done what no child should ever have to do.

But they are shinobi. She knows it, they know it. This is a war – the shinobi's feelings do not count. (They never do.) Quickly, she prepares a jutsu, even as Naruto, besides her, and the rest of the shinobi form hand signs, some faster than others. They hold the attacks, hands freezing in the instant before the last sign, for half a second. Enough time for the first wave of enemies to crash into them.

Hinata forms the last hand sign, and a stream of water crashes into that first rank of arriving chuunin. She almost feels sorry for the poor chuunin who are swept off their feet and into trees. They should have been able to avoid that. Surely, not even the Sound…! But it is true. As she sees bursts of fire erupt from beside her, and even thunder come crackling from the skies, she sees that it _is _true.

The Sound had placed their pawns exactly. Quickly, even as the ground shattered beneath the enemy's feet, she messaged Command through the com of a nearby shinobi, simply grabbing it from his belt. "The front ranks are barely chuunin-level," she says into the com unit, clearly and distinctly." A silence at the other end, and the message comes crackling back as Naruto places himself as a shield in front of her, "Ordering the preservation of chakra and energy. Initiate low-level attacks and strategies."

Almost immediately, the shinobi move forward. Hinata sees that Rock Lee is charging into the flanks, his teacher beside him. Tenten and Neji-nii-san go in together, and she sees what they are planning to do as clearly as if she had been the one to plan it out. They were a team, and they were working as one, planning to pick out a group – a large group – and herd it off somewhere they would be quietly disposed of. It was a good strategy, considering that they were basically fighting genin, and they were all Jounin and Neji and Tenten were ANBU. They were a good team, she thought, and Hinata wished that her own team were here, but they were somewhere else, behind Konoha, with Jiraiya-sama and Kurenai-sama. Hinata was, of course, a little bit jealous that they would be able to watch the famous Sannin at work, but then, she thought, as she swept her drawn katana through the abdomen of a man – really, though, he was no more than a boy – before her, she was fighting beside Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, the Sannin's apprentices, against Orochimaru, who was a Sannin himself.

And that was the last thought she had before falling into the peculiar dance of death, for though the enemy were weak, they were many, and it was easier to fight and kill once she started the dance. Naruto was still beside her, rather, a Naruto was beside her. It was really rather early on for him to start using Kage Bunshin, she thought, but she supposed he would think it great fun. He was that kind of a warrior.

Hinata smiled as she reversed her blade to slice through the chuunin's neck in one quick blow, the pulled a kunai with her other hand to throw at another. Sakura-chan would be calling Naruto a lazy bum after this. And best of all, she would be healing him at the same time, because she would _always _heal 'her boys' no matter what scrapes they got into or how mad she was at them.

Cleaning the blood from her balde, Hinata slid the katana into it sheath before beginning a Hyuuga routine. Sliding impossibly fast, she was closing chakra points on anyone she touched, as Narutos by the dozen killed them.

Her eyes hardened to chips of crystal, and she grinned.

She would not fail.

Not this time.

This time, she would make her family proud.


	4. Here

**Edited** March 5, 2008 – thanks to **KaguyaToriko** for pointing out the flaws in it – just for you, I've added an entire extra section of Sakura, which plays her in a _much _more flattering light. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. [A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter Three: Not

She slams her fist into the enemy's face, then spins to kick another one sneaking up behind her. Her face is tight, drawn, but she is just as happy as she is worried. Worried because her friends are here, worried because the last of the civilians had not been evacuated yet, worried because some of them are _just too stubborn _to submit to the fact that they _are going to die_ if they don't leave. But she is also happy, because in battle she is free to let loose the Inner Sakura, free to let go, to not be in complete control, to listen to her instincts.

Here, now, she is free.

She glances around her, at the familiar faces of her comrades, and the unfamiliar faces of her enemies. She wonders, even as she drops two men, if Sasuke is affected by this. _She _is fighting strangers, but _he _is fighting former comrades. He looks as cool as ever as he fights them, as he fights the people who were once his, and she wonders if she could ever do that. She wonders what's beyond the façade, wonders if there is anything there – anything genuine.

The pink-haired medic shakes her head. That is a foolish thought. He loves her. She only wishes he would tell her so. She stumbles forward suddenly, reacting to a kick at the base of her spine. Suddenly, she is very happy that they are fighting such weak enemies, because otherwise she would be dead. Distracted, that's what she was; thinking of her personal life, when she knows that love has no part in this, not until it is over, not until the last of their enemies is dead or gone. And a low-level chuunin had been able to surprise her. She shakes her head. Pitiful.

In a blur of motion, she turns and smashes a chakra-filled fist in a furious uppercut. The head jerks sickeningly to the side, and the neck bones crack. She doesn't bother watching as the body flies, skidding along the ground before crashing against a tree with a thud that he can no longer feel. Engaging the next chuunin, she sees the boy's teammates running to him. She wonders where they were when their teammate had died, wonders if they knew that if they had all teamed up on her, maybe that boy would still be alive.

One is a boy, the other a girl, she notes, automatically blocking a chuunin's valiant, although untrained, attacks. The girl is crying, the boy furious. She is reminded of her own genin team, Team 7, and she quickly disposes of the chuunin with a move similar to the one that reminded her a little of Sasuke (only smaller, weaker, far less sexy). She spins in time to meet the charging teammate. He is fueled by anger and passion, and lasts a few seconds before she manages to slit his throat. It hurts her heart to kill the boy (so innocent and idealistic, so like Naruto, except without the pain). It hurts her heart, but she does what she must for her home, so she kills him.

The girl stares after him with strange amazement and shock, then pounces at Sakura. That is the only way to describe her motion – it has all of the feline grace of a tigress, though, unfortunately, none the skill. The pink-haired kunoichi feels a curious sense of déjà vu as she grabs the girl by her long hair, bringing her to her knees. The sense vanishes as the girl simply kneels there, crying. Contempt, pity, and sympathy wash over her all at once, and she knocks the girl out, placing her body next to her teammates.

The sun is traveling downwards, now, burying itself in the hills and mountains and forests that spread from Konoha, and the battle itself is slowing, something that she both encourages and despises. _The fools_,Inner Sakura rages, _why won't they fight? _Sakura shakes her head. She knows better than that – knows that this is tactics, this is strategy, this is war – and when you are being beaten as badly as they were, you retreat. You hide, and choose your battles.

Slowly, she stands, picks her way across the battlefield, strewn with bodies and blood and weapons, and she feels sorry. Now that the adrenaline is no longer rushing through her system, no that she _thinks _instead of _feels _she sees the havoc that has crossed the world today. She makes her way to him, because even after all this time, he is still everything. But she has duties, she knows, and she will attend to them, but she _must _make sure of him, first; make certain that he is still here, that the body houses a soul. He stands there, so still, staring out toward the horizon, and it's just a little bit awkward now, because she knows what he's thinking, and she doesn't know what to say to his bloodlust, to his need to kill Orochimaru and Kabuto.

She touches his arm, and its fairly quivering with nerves. Sasuke turns, reaches out to her, and crushes her to him in an unprecedented move. He always was possessive and overprotective, she notes. It only stands to reason that it would be even worse (better) after a battle. "You're all right?" he asks, and Sakura nods into his chest as she checks him over. He picks her up, swinging her into his arms. "Sasuke-kun?"

"Hn. Sleep. You have such low stamina."

She does, burying her face into his chest, happy to drift off into happy oblivion for a few minutes, because Sasuke-kun will protect her, and she'll be stuck in the hospital tomorrow. She doesn't have enough chakra for a full day of healing, really, and she wonders where the others are.

She wakes moments later, as he sets her gently on her feet in front of the hospital. "You shouldn't have done that," she yawns. "I shouldn't have let you." He gives her a noncommittal grunt, a sound that means only _you know that you liked it, and I wanted to. _

She offers him a smile, and she's walking into the hospital, tying her hair up, preparing to slip into her scrubs. She'll undoubtedly be in the surgery tonight, and she wonders, in that uncaringness, unknowingness where she is medic and kunoichi more than girl, if she will be the one to watch her friends die. Maybe not. Maybe they'll all be lucky. Maybe they'll live.

It is later when she leaves – days, weeks, months, years. It is hard to tell, when you spend your time among the dead and dying, to whom time no longer matters. Even such a brief sojourn, just ten or twelve hours, before she is kicked it and replaced with fresher surgeons, leaves her dizzy, uncoordinated, lost.

She awakes to the smells of hot foods. Like all surviving shinobi, there is no area between sleep and awareness, just black and light. "Sasuke-kun," she says, her voice husky with sleep. She sits up, rubbing her eyes, "Sasuke-kun?"

"Hn."

She pushes herself off her couch, moving the blanket out of the way, and yawns, stretching. "Dinner?" He's standing in her kitchen, rummaging about for her mismatched plates, and there are paper bags of take-out on her tiny table.

She stumbles toward him, stiff from sleeping on a narrow, hard couch, and collapses in a chair, "How did I get here? How long did I sleep? Did I get my orders? You? Where are we stationed?" He holds up a hand to stop the flow of her questions, bringing back her mismatched plates and unpacking the food, "I brought you home. You slept for three hours. You are at the hospital tomorrow, I at the battleground. Kabuto is mine. Oto lost over sixty chuunin, twenty genin, one Jounin."

She sucks in a breath. The numbers are so high! Where had Oto come up with all those people? Did they no longer have civilians? "Kumo?" she asks the Jounin in her taking over, "How many did they send? Casualties?" He shakes his head, "They haven't arrived. Rumor is they have about fifty on the way." He sits down, and they quickly break their chopsticks, "Itadakamisu."

Busy stuffing her mouth, the pink-haired girl asks, "Missing?" She expects there to be none, and is shocked when Sasuke replies, "We have a few of theirs." He anticipates her questions, replying before she can ask, "Ino is… 'playing' with them. She'll drop by later."

She nods, relieved. None of her friends are among the dead or wounded, else Sasuke would have said so, but… "Sasuke-kun? What's wrong?"

He glances at her, as if judging her, and she nearly flinches before quickly pulling herself up and glaring right back at him. He averts his gaze, "Nothing much."

He's looking back into her eyes now, and she's sure that there _is _something there – something he wants to say to her, but won't. She smiles reassuringly, but he just watches her, dark eyes unreadable, "You know," he begins, voice hesitate, "You know… this is not the end."

"Of course-" she begins, but he cuts her off, eyes harder than she has ever seen them, "Oto is strong, maybe even stronger than Konoha. Definitely more brutal. Kumo is not as strong as Suna, but…" She watches him, wondering what he has to say.

"Just… Just be careful."

She grins at him. "When am I not careful?"

His gaze reminds her that this is not the last time that they will speak of this.


	5. I

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten.

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter Five: I

He watches her that night, watches as she falls into a deep sleep, and he is both annoyed and touched. Touched that she trusts him enough to sleep so deeply in his presence even in wartime, and annoyed for the same reason. So he watches her and she finally settles, and only then does he fall asleep himself. He dreams of pink hair stained red and mocking Sharingan eyes and glinting glasses and the swipe of a snake's tongue. He dreams of fire and of pain and of death and of war, and wakes up to find that maybe, it was not a dream.

Sakura is awake before he is, which is a bit shameful, because he had always prided himself as being more alert than she. Nevertheless, she is awake and rigid on her side of the bed, her eyes flickering back and forth, back and forth. He activates the Sharingan in a burst of chakra and follows her movement, pushing himself up and over her, covering her with his body. A moment later she relaxes again, before the bells begin to toll. He curses and so does she, and he notices, half amused as they dress, that she can do it for longer than he can without repeating herself, long strings of obscenity-laced insults, creative, sadistic, and anatomically impossible.

He gives her one last look, one last glance, and a butterfly kiss on her forehead before dropping out the window, never turning back. This is Sasuke – moving forward, one foot after another, not looking back, not turning back. There is no time for doubt in his world, no space for remorse. So he just turns around and keeps moving, keeps breathing, keeps running.

He's headed for the walls, and it's another day of fighting, for him.

For those who do not fight, death is a blur. They think it is automatic: that shinobi kill so much and so often and so well that it is just reflex anymore, that they don't even think of death, or the people they kill, or the blood flowing from severed arteries and spraying, hot and burning, on skin. They think that shinobi no longer feel pain, fear, horror, or doubt.

And maybe some don't. (Maybe Itachi didn't, when he killed his family) But Sasuke does. Sasuke feels it and Sasuke knows how it is to kill and kill and kill and wonder when and if it stops. Of course, he is rational enough – emotionless enough – to know it doesn't. Because he is shinobi, and this is the life he has chosen, and this is the world that has become his. No. This is the world he was born to.

And then he's at the wall, and he stops beside Naruto, because despite his best efforts, Naruto is his best friend, and now he realizes that he wouldn't want it any other way, because this is the way it has been and will be and this is how it is, and he likes it when things stay the same (another memory of Itachi, because Itachi changed everything, and now he can't help but despite change, because change is _bad_.)

And Naruto smirks at him behind his mask, but Sasuke knows he's smirking anyways, because this is what the new Naruto does. The new Naruto, who is stronger and calmer, but still bright and _happy_, and sometimes Sasuke is just a little bit jealous of Naruto, who is able to be happy and strong at the same time. Maybe, he thinks, Naruto is strong _because _he is happy. But Sasuke can't be that way – Sasuke is strong because he is cold, and detached, and emotionless.

But Hinata isn't here either, today, and Sasuke is able to discern just the tiniest bit of relief in Naruto's features (under bloodlust and hatred and a strange calm). He asks, in as detached a voice as he can manage under the relief he himself is feeling, where Hinata is – and when Naruto tells him that she's at the Hospital, he smirks, and Naruto knows him well enough to take it as a grin, and says he would ask where Sakura was if it weren't so obvious.

But that's all the banter they have time for, and they turn to face the road. Sasuke supposes that it isn't very brilliant to be watching the road, since that is probably the one place they know the enemy won't be coming, but that's how it is. They watch the road because they are cautious, and cautious people watch everywhere and everything. Quietly, he switches on the Sharingan, and then he blinks – once, twice. And then he reaches for his communicator, but Hyuuga Neji beats him to it, "The Sound ninja appear to be using sound waves to interfere with light. Approaching one hundred meters. Seventy-five meters. Fifty meters."

Sasuke breaks into the report, "Twenty-five meters. Fight blind."

And then the Sound are _there_. They have the advantage, just a bit, because sometimes the Konoha shinobi can't see them, but Konoha has Hyuugas and Inuzukas and an Uchiha and a Hatake with a Sharingan eye, so maybe they'll be okay.

At least, that's what Sasuke is telling himself, because they're winning, he thinks, and then he blinks and _what the hell_?

And he almost runs away, but they see him. Karin looks almost sorry she has to fight him, and like she's going to beg him to go back with her (Not possible). Suigetsu looks murderous. Juugo looks unsurprised. So what else is new? He smirks. Almost a joke there, even if it was sarcasm. Sakura would be proud.

Naruto turns around, and he looks just a tad surprised. They've dropped the jutsu that makes them invisible to the naked human eye, and he sees them, clear as day, and he's mad. Furious, really. But mad.

Sasuke half-turns to look at him even as a clumsy chuunin – _didn't we take care of these yesterday? _– attacks him, and he sees memories rushing through his eyes as he stands in the midst of his Kage Bunshin. And this is bad. Naruto furious is very, very bad.

But what is he to do?

And then, all at once, the Narutos leap from their opponents and converge on the members of Sasuke's former Team Hebi. And Sasuke joins them, because that is what Sasuke does. And if he could attack Naruto and nearly kill him, and attack Sakura and nearly kill her, then he can and does attack Team Hebi, who were never more to him than people and tools to be used.

He remembers every moment of that battle later, every catch of the eyes, every plea tumbling from Karin's lips, every flick of the kunai, every drop of blood. He remembers this, and he wants to, because this is a lesson for him – a lesson in betrayal and hatred and blood, and he needs this lesson, because he hasn't killed Itachi yet, isn't good enough to kill Itachi yet, so he needs every single lesson he can get – and this is a lesson, a good one, and he'll milk it for all its worth.

And they land a few blows on him, yes, but he was always the stronger of them. He was the team leader, and he was Orochimaru's protégé, and he was the one that was destined to lead Otogakure, so he wins. He wins – with Naruto's help, though he doesn't like to admit it – and that's that.

Except it's _not _just that, because the day isn't over, the battle isn't over, and this war isn't over. Far from it, in fact.

So he keeps fighting, because that is what he does. That's what he does, and that's what Naruto does, and that's what shinobi do. Except for Sakura. That's not what Sakura does, because Sakura can _heal_, and she doesn't just break, she _fixes_, and he's just a bit (a lot) jealous right now, jealous of her, which is a bit funny, but that's how it feels.

He wishes that he knew how to do anything but break, and kill, and cause pain.

And he wishes that she would never know what it was like.


	6. Come

Author's Note: I just wanted to thank everyone who stayed with me throughout this entire story, everyone who put this story on favorites and alerts and everyone who reviewed, especially **allurement**, the most amazing reviewer _ever_. But thanks also to **Purplewolfstar25**, **KaguyaToriko**, **sakuraxkisu**, **CalenlassGreenleaf1**, **-Don'tSayGoodbye-**, **Venerable Belen**, **lizuchiha**, **poisonxivory**, **poke-n-die**, and **OneSong05**. So this is an uber-long chapter as a thank-you and a good-bye, because who knows when I'll be able to actually write something with actual _chapters _and a _plot _again? So drop me a comment, because this is the _last _chapter, and I'll be so pissed if you don't!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. A series of 6 – Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten.

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter Six: Come

This is the end, or the beginning of the end, or whatever else they call it, she thinks, and she's stuck right in the middle of it, with no where to move. She and Neji, not back to back, but she's watching his, and he's watching hers, so despite the lack of physical contact, maybe-just-maybe that's enough.

And then it stops.

She isn't sure when, but one moment she's fighting and killing and breaking, and the next it's _empty_.

She doesn't really process it, at first, just keeps glancing around, teeth bared in a snarl, muscles clenched.

And Neji taps her on her shoulder, and she straightens, because that's what she does when he taps her _right there_, it means it's over and they've won, or it means it's over and they lost and they have to _start running _now.

But they've obviously won, they have to have won.

So she straightens up and she looks around and she wants to just sit here and _cry_. But she can't, because Neji's standing there and because she's kunoichi, but mostly because Neji's standing there, and she can't show him her weakness, can't give him an excuse to think any less of her.

And then it's back to business, counting the dead, finding the wounded, collecting her weapons, finding her friends, and she wonders how they can be so callous, how they can all act so uncaring, as if these deaths do not stain them, as if the blood of hundreds on their hands does not burden them, does not hurt them.

But Neji touches her shoulder again, and he offers her a handful of kunai, _her _kunai, and she looks into his eyes, and she sees coldness and justice and, buried beneath it all, _guilt_. And she brushes his shoulder, and they're a team so they know each other so well that he knows, instinctively, that she means that she understands.

It is what Gai first taught them: forgive yourself for killing, and then forgive those you killed. Always in that order, never forgive those you kill before forgiving yourself, because then you will never forgive yourself, you will never be clean of those deaths.

But Hyuuga Neji, the prodigy, the genius, the boy-man who slipped past the restraints of the Main and Branch Houses, has never been good at following directions, has never been good at forgiving himself, has never been able to convince himself that he is right when he has killed. So it is always difficult for him, after a battle, because he always forgets to forgive himself.

And maybe sometimes he skips all other forgiving, as well.

But she's willing to overlook that, but she's not willing to overlook the skipping of the first step, but he's not willing to let her win, he's not willing to let her heal him, so she backs off, nods her _thank you_, and bends down for the katana she flung threw the chest of a man who had been attacking him. (Reminds him that he needs her too, sometimes.)

And then they trudge home. It's not very far, because the battle was close until the last bit, and it had taken them so long to figure out the jutsu the Sound shinobi had been using to hide themselves, but it feels like it takes a forever and a half. It is always more tiring after the battle than during it.

But they trudge home, and she walks next to Neji, and steals this moment, because after a battle, he always lets her walk a bit closer, always lets her be a bit nicer, a bit softer, a bit weaker. And Lee and Gai-sensei walk in front in front of them, as usual, because that's how it is: Lee and Gai-sensei in front, sprinting, running, cheering, crying, laughing. And she and Neji behind, calm, steadfast, and she would like to say strong _but is she_?

But it's okay.

Today its okay, because today she doesn't go home to an empty house, _today_, she won't be alone, because _tonight_ is for drinking and partying and screaming. _Tonight _is a night for the time-honored shinobi tradition, the tradition all shinobi know: get pissed off your ass. So tonight she goes to a club, with the Rookie Nine, and they get in because they are _shinobi_.

And her team – Team Gai, Team Thirteen – takes up a booth, and she smiles and orders the strongest thing she can find, Neji goes for sake, and Lee gets water. (A couple drinks later, she tells him she feels bad for him at times like these, when he can't get drunk. He smiles and laughs, because she already is.)

Team Seven (Team Kakashi?) is at the table next to them, and their sensei isn't with them, because he's the type to get drunk in a nicer setting, in a more private setting, and maybe with Genma and Iruka and Shizune, and maybe a few others. But Naruto is drunk, very drunk, Sasuke is slowly sipping his sake (Tenten wonders if sipping sake is something you're taught in those arrogant, noble houses), and Sakura is _beyond _drunk.

And she has a ring on her finger.

A diamond ring.

A _large _diamond ring.

And Tenten gulps and _when did this happen_?

She wracks her brain – and Sakura definitely _didn't _have a ring the last time she saw her, at the hospital to get more bandages. So between now and… She doesn't remember, and she blames the drink and the _bubbly _feeling it causes, but can't bring herself to put the glass down and instead signals for another.

And she glances past them, past Team Seven (the lucky team, the team that trained under the Sannin, the legendary team, the team that broke and was put back together, the team that broke and was _forced _back together, and does she always think in riddles when she's drunk?) and see Team Eight, and _what the fuck_?

She claps her hand over her mouth and wonders if she's also a bit less inhibited when she's drunk, because she doesn't curse this much normally, does she? And she notices Neji staring – glaring? – at her, and she almost-sorta-kinda giggles, drunken giggles, high-pitched and on the edge of hysteria, because that's where she is.

Because Hinata's got a ring, too. Smaller than Sakura's, maybe, but hers looks newer and Tenten decides, in the midst of another drunken fit of giggles, that Sakura's is probably an heirloom and that Hinata's is probably new, and she looks in the other direction, where Ino is drinking fancy, little girl's drinks, and probably trying not to get too drunk, just _bubbly_, just _icy_, just _high_, because who drinks strawberry daiquiris on the eve of a battle?

But she moves her hand to grasp the straw, and her hand reaches across the table, and Shikamaru _grabs it_, and when did _this _happen, and why does everyone but _her _have someone to hold on to?

And then she thinks she knows, she thinks it's because of the battle, because of the war, but that's way too romance-novel-y, right?

Still, it must have been because of the battle – because the Rookie Nine (and here she feels old) has finally discovered what it's like to _carpe diem_, seize the day. Live, love, laugh, and why can't she have this, why can't she feel this, why can't she be wearing a huge rock on her finger?

And she feels an overwhelming desire to hide her left hand, and instead raises it and signals for another drink, and finishes off the one she holds in one long swallow. It burns, going down, but it's a nice burn. (She's too far gone to register it as anything else, now).

And Neji glares-stares-glances at her again, and she's almost beginning to think he _cares_, that he _wants _her, if not _that _way – if not the way she cares – then at least the way friends care. But he looks away again and nurses his cup of sake and then sips at it again.

And she thanks the man for the glass of whatever it is she ordered – she can't remember what it is, anymore – and he finally opens his mouth. He's slurring, just a bit, but he's _Hyuuga Neji_, and a couple glasses (bottles) of sake can't defeat him, but she giggles, and he says, in _that _voice, "Tenten."

And she looks at him and takes another sip of her drink, imitating him, and he narrows his eyes, "Tenten, stop drinking so much."

And she giggles drunkenly, because that's what she is – drunk – and asks him in as flippant a voice as she can manage, "What, Neji, you worried?"

And he looks away, as she knows he will, and she prepares herself for his, "Hn. You won't be able to train tomorrow," but instead she gets, "Is that so difficult to believe?"

And she gapes at him, and "What?"

That's not how it's supposed to go, that's not what he's supposed to say, because they have a _routine_, a well-established _circle_, and she asks and he not-answers and she pokes fun at him and he doesn't rise to the bait, effectively shooting it down instead.

He does _not _say something that implies that he cares.

But he does.

"Drinking won't make you forget."

And she pulls herself together and lets him skip his step and goes right to poking fun at him, but not really, because she's _bitter_, and _mad_, and _annoyed_, and _doesn't he get it_?

"Don't get all holier-than-thou, as if you're not doing the same!"

And he raises a – perfect – eyebrow at her and manages to exude arrogance without moving another muscle and she almost winces before pulling herself together and preparing to deliver another barb.

But he interrupts her – because he always interrupts her before she can deliver particularly stinging barbs – and asks, in a voice that implies that he cares, "Something is wrong."

And it's not asking her what's wrong, it's just saying that something is wrong, but that's more than she's gotten from him in all these years, and she thinks that maybe he's a bit more drunk than he's letting on.

So she answers him, because if he's as drunk as she thinks he is, then he won't be remembering this come tomorrow morning, and she wants to vent and rage and be a _woman_ full of self-righteous anger over unrequited love.

So she smiles at him, sadly, drunkenly, and asks him, "Why can't we have this?"

And he looks vaguely confused, vaguely interested, so she adds, "Why can't we be happy, why can't we be together, why can't we get along, why can't you hold me when I cry, why can't I let you see me cry, why don't you let me see you cry?"

And she thinks he gets it now, thinks he _gets it_, like he doesn't usually – because he's a genius, but sometimes he needs things spelled out for him. He doesn't _get _emotional things. He doesn't understand that she needs him to touch her, to hold her, to let her cry. He doesn't understand, and she understands that, but understanding and acceptance are completely different things, and she's mastered one but not the other.

And he blinks at her and then he stands, and he holds out his hand, and he says, "Come."

And she almost refuses, almost says no, but maybe it's the look in his eyes, or maybe it's the way he tells her to follow him, or maybe it's that he's actually waiting, but she takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet, and follows him.

They don't walk that far, only to the closest training grounds, but she stops, right at the edge of the field, and she's tired now, tired, and bubbly, but _contained _bubbly, and she asks him, she asks him, "Why are we here?"

He doesn't answer her question, but he still speaks, and what he says is better and worse than an answer.

"Do you want a ring?"

She blinks, shocked, a bit.

"Is that what you want? A diamond ring? Holding hands? Chocolates on Valentine's Day? Because I think I can do that. I can give that to you. But is that what you want?"

She shakes her head, _no_, but what comes out of her mouth is different.

"Yeah. Yeah, Neji, that's what I want. I want a diamond ring, and I want you to let me hold your hand, and I want chocolates. But you know what, Neji? That's what I _want._" She takes a deep breath, and it hitches, catches in her throat, but she breathes out, and takes another and this one's almost fine.

"It's not what I need. And maybe you can't give me what I want, but you can give me what I need."

And he turns around, and if she didn't know him as well as she does, then she wouldn't be able to read the look in his eyes, but it's enough for her, because she's Tenten and he's Neji, and they're not like Shikamaru and Ino, not like Naruto and Hinata, not, even, like Sasuke and Sakura (though that's closer than others, but Neji isn't Sasuke and she isn't Sakura).

So that's enough, for now, and she knows he'll give her more, later.

But for now, that's enough, so she goes to him and lays her hands on his shoulders and buries her face in his chest and he lets her, and that's enough.

_**-End-**_


End file.
